


better off as lovers

by rennie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I guess???, Kinda, M/M, Pack Dynamics, idk how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 03:10:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1494385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rennie/pseuds/rennie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Lydia who notices it first. Naturally.</p>
<p>They may as well announce it to the world using a megaphone, she thinks idly, watching Stiles and Derek lace their fingers together under the cover of 'darkness'. The Cabin In The Woods is playing in the background, but Lydia thinks that the room could go up in flames and they'd stay put for all the notice they're giving it. They really have no subtlety, but it's cute, so she lets them be. For now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	better off as lovers

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time posting a fic but because [sarah](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rainsoakedshoes) is always posting fics i figured i owe it to her to post something, so yeah!! here u go sarah!!  
> also title comes from Fall Out Boy's Bang The Doldrums!!!
> 
> ~note~ i'm having a lot of formatting issues with this fic and idk why but pls bear with me on this, if you could point out any spacing errors in particular i would be overly grateful!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's Lydia who notices it first. Naturally.

They may as well announce it to the world using a megaphone, she thinks idly, watching Stiles and Derek lace their fingers together under the cover of 'darkness'. Cabin In The Woods is playing in the background, but Lydia thinks that the room could go up in flames and they'd stay put for all the notice they're giving it. They really have no subtlety, but it's cute, so she lets them be. For now.

\--

Stiles and Lydia are on a coffee run when she first brings it up.

"So, Stiles. You and Derek, huh?"

She watches with thinly veiled amusement as Stiles fumbles and drops Jackson, Erica and Scott's coffees. 

"W-what?"

"Please," she rolls her eyes. "You weren't even in the realm of subtle. You wouldn't know the meaning of discreet if it slapped you across the face." Stiles gapes for a moment, before apparently recovering.

"Yeah right. He should be so lucky." Lydia regards him for a moment, then, in a voice that suggests that she's talking to a 3 year old, she says, 

"Okay, Stiles. So you're one hundred percent sure there's nothing going on between you and Derek?"

Stiles nods, but he can't meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry, what was that Stiles?"

"Yes! I mean, no! I mean - there's nothing going on between us."

Lydia could push the issue, but Stiles is getting flustered, and there's a blush creeping up his neck, and his fingers are trembling ever so slightly, and it'd just be cruel to press the subject when he's so obviously at a disadvantage. Lydia snorts, and gets in  the car. 

"Come back to me when you're ready to admit it to me."

\--

"We have a problem," Stiles tells Derek, later that night.

"You're choosing to bring this up now?" Derek asks, hand freezing on  Stiles' cock.

"There wasn't a convenient time!"

"And this is your definition of a convenient time?" Derek asks, incredulous.

"Lydia knows. About us. Whatever us is."

"What?! " 

"Keep your voice down!"

"How?"

"She's Lydia, dude." Derek concedes. 

"Now you can carry on."

\--

Boyd's the next to figure it out.

After Lydia and Stiles return from their coffee run, he watches as Derek and Stiles conduct an entire non-verbal conversation. Sure, he could understand most of it, but there's something about the almost  _tender_  way Derek nods at him after Stiles sends him a clear message: we need to talk, that has Boyd cottoning on within seconds.

He wouldn't have pictured them together, but he can totally see it .

Boyd tries to adopt a policy of  wilful ignorance, but once he figures it out, Boyd can't stop noticing things. Like the innocent touches they trade, from the casual way Derek rests his hand on Stiles' lower back when they're watching TV to the innocent way they ensure their fingers brush when they hand each other items. 

Boyd thinks it would be sweet if it wasn't so mind-numbingly obvious.

\--

Boyd decides to bring it up on one of the rare occasions he and Derek are alone. They're trying to track a goddamn succubus, and Boyd can't believe this is his life. 

They're waiting just around the corner from the club the succubus was last reported to be entering, if Erica and Kira are to be believed.

Seeing as they've got an hour or two to kill, Boyd decides that now's a good a time as any to bring it up. The only people within hearing distance are Scott and Isaac, but Boyd figures they're otherwise engaged. He also doesn’t want to think about that too much in case it brings up his lunch.

"Stilinski, huh?"

He thinks it's the first time he's ever seen Derek blush.

Derek makes no attempt to defend himself. 

"He grows on you." 

"I know," Boyd says, not without a trace of laughter. "I watched him wear you down."

Derek side-eyes him for a moment.

"Lydia's the only other one who knows. Don’t. We're not ready to tell everyone yet." Boyd nods. He's not even surprised Lydia figured it out first. Who else would it be?

\--

"I think it's cute." Lydia states, sipping her tall Espresso. Boyd swirls his plain black coffee using the wooden stick provided, and shrugs.

"I guess. I just didn't see it coming." Lydia smirks, the smirk Erica adopts when she gets a particularly bad idea, one that suggests they know something you don't.

"Speak for yourself. Remember that time Derek got  paralysed  by Jackson's Kanima  venom and then Stiles held him up for two hours?" Boyd had forgotten that. They go on talking for the next hour or so, until they’ve both finished their coffees, and they make their way back to the house. 

\--

The twin grins Boyd and Lydia give Stiles as they arrive back at the house do nothing to instill a sense of confidence within Stiles. He grabs Derek's bicep as he walks past, and - wow, how much does Derek work out, seriously? - drags him to one side.

"Boyd. Does he - ?"

"Yeah," Derek admits, running a hand through his hair absent mindedly. "He figured it out."

"I guess it saves us from having to tell them? Two down?" Stiles asks weakly, desperately trying to lighten the mood. Derek shrugs helplessly, and Stiles buries his face in his hands. They are so fucked.

\--

Jackson, of all people, is next. Despite popular opinion, he's not actually as self-centred as most people think. Well, he is, but he does know when people are hooking up and when they're not, and Stiles and Derek reek of sex. And each other. You don't have to be Lydia to put two and two together.

He doesn't particularly care if Derek and Stiles are just doing it, or if they're committed enough that they could run off to Vegas tomorrow and get married. As far as Jackson's concerned, the less he knows the better, and so long as it doesn’t do anything that seriously blows, like fuck up the pack dynamics, or even the pack, for good, it's none of his business. 

And after that, he can't help but notice how  _obvious_ they are. That's the way it always works, isn't it? Once you're in on the secret, you suddenly realise it was staring you in the face the whole time.

Like, are they seriously fooling people? Stiles staggers into the kitchen with seven hickeys, for the love of Christ, and then Derek stumbles after him. Jackson rolls his eyes so hard he's surprised they don't fall out of his head, and when he makes eye contact with Stiles, he takes a sort of twisted satisfaction in  watching the way horror fills Stiles' eyes. 

\--

Jackson should've figured they'd corner  him eventually. They pounce when he's making a run to the store, and quite literally corner him. Between the vegetables and the frozen food aisle, there's nowhere to run.

"Do you - " Stiles starts. There's a five second long silence.

"I mean. Do you, you know, know?" Jackson could tell them he knows, but that would just be too easy.

"Know what?" He asks, innocent as a flower.

 "That Derek and me - "

"Derek and I," Jackson interrupts.

"That Derek and  _I_ ," Stiles says, in a bitingly sarcastic tone, heavily layered with the universal, 'I-want-to-punch-you' tone.

"Are together?"

"You are?" Jackson feigns surprise, just to watch Stiles flounder. Derek picks up the change in his heartbeat at the bluff, and glares at him, but Stiles seems to be hovering somewhere in between 'vaguely panicked' and 'indescribable horror'. 

"He knows." Derek says, heading off Stiles' panic attack at the pass. 

Jackson smirks at Stiles as he turns the full force of his bitchiest glare onto Jackson.

"Who else knows?"

"Only Lydia and Boyd. And now you. We'd like to keep it that way." Lydia knew all along and never told him? He can't even pretend he's surprised anymore; there's a lot Lydia doesn't tell him nowadays.

\--

"Wait, you've known for  _how_  long?" Jackson demands, ignoring the Cappuccino pushed his way by a seemingly bored Boyd.

"Two months. And counting." Jackson sighs, and sits back in his seat.

"And we can't tell anybody?" 

"Not unless you want a severely pissed off Derek Hale to come and murder you in your sleep," Lydia tells him sweetly. "And since we share a bed, if you wake me up in the middle of the night with your screaming, I'll help him."

Jackson rolls his eyes.

"So, what's the bets on how long it'll take McCall to pull his head out of Lahey's ass and figure it out?"

"I'd give it another three months, at least," Boyd says.

"I have faith in Scott, I think two," Lydia admits, taking a sip of her  Espresso. 

"I think at least four. Twenty bucks apiece?" Jackson offers, raising one eyebrow demurely.

Boyd and Lydia mull it over for a few seconds, before shaking hands. 

"Deal."

\--

It's not so much that Kira has a revelation about Stiles and Derek as much as the revelation is thrust upon her, quite literally. She opens the closet on the second floor to find a mop - she makes a mental note to never, ever let Scott be in charge of pouring drinks again, she's never seen  _anyone_  fuck up quite as spectacularly, and one time she found out her parents had hidden the fact that her mom was 900 years old. That's the kind of shit people need therapy for - and is promptly flattened by two writhing bodies. 

She detaches herself from the pile, and stares down at the guilty parties. She raises an eyebrow, and thinks she'd be mad if it wasn't quite so hot, because, how long have they kept this a secret?!

Looking back now, she thinks it might be quite obvious. 

"So you two are together, I take it."

\--

Kira has the kind of eyes that make Stiles want to reassure her that he thoroughly enjoyed being unceremoniously dumped onto the floor. Big, brown and wide, they make for the best puppy dog eyes Stiles has ever seen, and anyone could bear witness to that. They even work on Deaton sometimes.

"Why would you not tell me?" She demands, stomping her foot, as Stiles and Derek attempt to gather up their dignity, and help each other up. And by help each other, Stiles of course means letting himself be yanked to his feet by a two-hundred pound werewolf.

"Surprise?" Stiles offers, and ducks when Kira goes to slap him.

"How long has this been going on?" Stiles looks at Derek, trying to gauge whether the truth would be appreciated here, but Derek, coward that he is, is avoiding Stiles' eyes. Not that Stiles blames him, for a 5''3 girl, Kira's kind of terrifying sometimes.

"About six months."

"SIX MONTHS?!" 

Stiles slaps his hand across her mouth.

"Shh! Only Jackson, Lydia and Boyd know!" He hisses, looking around him. "You can't tell anyone, okay?"

Funnily enough, Kira seems more disappointed that she wasn't the first to know than the fact that she can't tell anyone. She swears she won't tell a soul, and then happily skips off to gossip with Lydia in the kitchen.

\--

They pull up an extra chair around their table to make room for Kira, clutching a Latte with "Keira" written on the side. They never spell her name right. No, leave that up to creepy school bus bombers.

Jackson leans forward.

"So, now you're in the know, how about you engage in some light-hearted betting?" He asks, twinkle in his eye. In the end, Kira's bet mirrors Boyd's.

\--

Isaac and Allison figure it out together. The Hale mansion overlooks a pond, surrounded by grass and trees. It's a secluded spot, and it's perfect if couples want to go have a bit of alone time, away from prying eyes, (Stiles) or listening ears (Erica). They can't find Scott to come fool around with them, so they go down by themselves, but before they stumble into the small clearing, Isaac holds a hand out and stops Allison moving any further.

"What is it?" Allison asks, whispering. Last time a werewolf told her to stop walking and she started asking questions, she nearly got kidnapped. 

"Isaac!" 

"I think I can hear two people." Allison huffs.

"Erica and Boyd?"

"...I don't think so."

"Jackson and Lydia?" 

"Definitely not. It...it sounds like two guys."

"What? But you and Scott are the only guys who fool around, right? Ethan doesn't live here, so Danny can't fool around with him here. Are people trespassing? Because this is private property!"

Isaac clamps his hand down over her mouth.

"Allison. I love you. But you need to be quiet."

"Who is it?"

"Stiles and Derek."

Allison gasps, face lighting up with mischief. 

"Can we peek?"

"Ew, Allison!" 

"Fine, don't come with me." She sets off at a quick pace, fast enough that she's not a sitting duck, but light enough that she doesn't set off an alert to everyone in the area by breaking twigs and crushing leaves left, right and centre.

She hears a Isaac heave great sigh from behind her, and smiles. Victory.

"If you're going to be a voyeur, I can't let you do it alone."

What greets them is one of the hottest things Allison's ever seen. She knew Derek was practically an Adonis, but she had no idea Stiles could be hot. Geeky, dorky Stiles who used to have a buzzcut and owns a lightsaber, and hot aren't two words Allison ever thought she'd be using in a sentence together, but here she is. 

He's riding Derek, clothes strewn off to the side, but he's got his socks on still. Allison has to repress a snicker at that, because it just looks ridiculous. Derek's got his jeans on, which is a wise choice when you're fucking outside, but his chest, God. It may as well have been sculpted by Zeus. 

Stiles is riding him slowly, dick flush against his stomach, eyes closed and mouth open. Derek's hands are gripping his hips, and it's one of the hottest things Allison thinks she's ever seen.

She turns back to Isaac, whose jeans look far too tight for comfort. 

Allison intends to confront Stiles and Derek later, but for now she's more focused on remembering the way to the room she shares with Isaac and Scott through a haze of lust.

\--

Erica only figures it out after she hears them breaking up, whilst having a whispered argument whilst they're unpacking the groceries.

"Why can't we just tell them? Most of them know already! I'm sure Isaac and Allison know, they're just not letting on, and Erica is this close to cottoning on. They're boxing us into a corner!" Stiles argues, placing three boxes of Lucky Charms in the cereal cupboard.

"Why can't we just let them figure it out for themselves?" Derek hisses back. "Like you said, Allison, Isaac and Erica probably know about us already, Lydia and Boyd have known for months -"

Boyd knew?! Erica makes a mental note to kill him, but keeps listening.

" -  Kira walked in on us, and Jackson figured it out . That makes four who know, and three who might know. That just leaves Danny and Scott. Danny will have it sussed in no time, and even Scott's not completely blind!"

"This is _Scott_  we're talking about, Derek. He wouldn’t know a secret relationship from a punch in the face. We at least need to tell _him_!"

"Not yet!"

"Why? Are you ashamed of this?" There's nothing but radio silence on Derek's part, and Erica winces, tries to convince him using telepathy to speak.  Her attempts are rendered futile however, by Derek being about as responsive as a dead fish.

"You are." Stiles' voice is completely wrecked, and Erica isn't surprised. It sounds like he's using  all his energy to keep it from breaking. 

"Stiles..." 

"Come back when you've decided if you actually want to be in this relationship or not." Stiles storms out of the room so abruptly, and with such little warning that Erica scrambles to hide, and when she's blinking dust out of her eyes and trying not to inhale spider's webs because apparently no one's bothered to clean under the stairs for as long as the house has been standing, she sits and thinks, 'well, shit.'

This could really fuck up the pack.

\--

"This could really fuck up the pack," is what Jackson says as soon as Erica relays her news. Erica confronted Allison and Isaac, and so they've all joined the group for coffee.

(When they show up, all three clutching Mochas, the only thing Boyd has to say is, "We're going to need a bigger table.")

"No, really?" Lydia asks him, receiving the mother of all glares.

"We need to fix this. And soon. Who knows what'll happen to the pack if they leave it too long."

They don't all depend on the alpha to keep the pack connected. It's not like a wheel, with each segment (aka the pack members) connecting to the centre (aka the alpha) via a spoke, they're all connected. It's more like a web. Everyone depends on each other. One broken link could bring the whole thing crashing down around their ears. And no one wants that.

"So here's the plan. We lock them in a cupboard." Erica studies Kira's face. It appears she's being serious. 

"Seriously? Could you get any more cliché?"

"Do you know why it's a cliché, dear Erica?" Kira asks, with an air of superiority wrapped around her like a shroud. Erica shakes her head.

"Because it  _works_.  People copy things that work. Thus, a cliché is born." Erica squints at her, because she's pretty sure that's not how it works, but she lets it slide.

"Whatever. Can't we at least lock them in a bedroom or something? You know, something that doesn't contain dangerous chemicals? We're tying to get them to make up, not poison each other."

In the end, they settle on Danny's room. It'll be a good opportunity to shed some light on the situation for Danny, and he's the only one who doesn’t store dangerous weapons in their room.

Even Lydia does it, ever since that time a goblin broke in and slobbered all over her face. Nasty little green thing. Nothing ruins a nightie quite like a green demon that secretes mucus climbing all over you. What's the point of having a werewolf boyfriend, if all he does is snore whilst you're being attacked by Gollum?

\--

Danny finds out, because he walks in on them making up. In is bedroom, nonetheless, which, okay, Danny can usually deal with most of the stuff his pack throws at him. He's a roll-with-the-punches kind of guy. Werewolves? Psh, whatever. Supernatural creatures conducting house raids in the dead of the night? Cool. Polyamorous Romeo-and-Juliet-esque relationships going on three doors down? Great. As long as Danny gets his sleep, food, and boyfriend time with Ethan, who had no idea about werewolves or anything, he was content. 

What he wasn't content with, however, was Stiles and Derek's relationship being conducted  _in his bedroom_.

He has to put his foot down somewhere, so he goes and yells at Erica, who he thinks may have something to do with this, who just smiles and asks him if he wants to come and get a coffee.

\--

Two hours later, Danny's three Latte's down, a case of the caffeine-induced jitters up, and he's completely up to date with the whole Stiles/Derek thing. He still doesn't know why it had to be his bedroom, though. Stiles and Derek, to their credit, look severely sheepish when they apologise to Danny.

"So, that's it then, right?" Jackson asks. Stiles does a quick headcount, and groans. Everyone looks at him.

"We still haven't told Scott."

\--

"Wait, are you telling me I was the only one who didn't know?" Scott asks, face pinched in annoyance. "I'm supposed to be your best friend!"

Everyone suddenly becomes very interested in the décor of the room. 

"Scott, dude, I wanted to tell you, but everyone else just either walked in on us, or guessed!" Stiles says desperately. 

"Or had their room used by you," Danny shoots bitterly.

Stiles winces.

"So, you're saying, if I'd have been a little more observant, I would've figured this out months ago? Me not knowing is my fault?" Stiles' eyes bug out of his head, and, Lydia, amazing friend that she is, saves him.

"Speaking of months, I believe all of you, except Danny, Stiles, Derek and Scott owe me twenty dollars!" There's a chorus of groans, and Lydia smirks triumphantly as people start rummaging in their pockets, and soon enough, Lydia's standing, smirking victoriously, 120 dollars richer .

"Technically, you didn’t win. Because Scott never figured it out."

Scott starts to protest loudly to that, and then everyone's talking over each other, yelling, and fighting to be heard. Rolling his eyes at the cacophony, Stiles pulls Derek over to one side.

"What are you doing?" Derek asks, laughing, as he watches  Erica tackle Jackson.

"I was just thinking, seeing as how they all know now, does that mean I can kiss you in front of them now?"

"What?" Even with Derek's enhanced hearing, being heard over the pack is something of a struggle.

"Can I kiss you?" Stiles yells, and then Derek's blushing, and wow, he's really fucking pretty up close, his eyes are kind of Stiles' new favouritecolour, after the pink that's lightly dusting his cheeks, because wow, how fucking adorable is his boyfriend?

And then Stiles is being pulled into a kiss, and it's not hidden in a cupboard, or in a secluded forest area, and the thought that now he can do this whenever he wants, doesn't have to wait for Erica to go to the gym or for Isaac to go to the library makes him so giddy he feels lightheaded.

Stiles is really fucking glad Lydia is so observant.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading xxx


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